


Scars

by omichaos



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Big Spoon Angie, Bisexual Peggy Carter, Cartinelli - Freeform, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Lesbian Angie Martinelli, Literal Sleeping Together, Scars, Sharing a Bed, brief mentions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 09:04:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4700195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omichaos/pseuds/omichaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment between Peggy and Angie as they lie in bed together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> For tumblr user blizzardphoenix, as always. Check out her art.

Angie loved watching Peggy sleep.

Ok, that sounded creepy.  Angie loved holding her girlfriend in her arms and watching her sleep because it was one of the few times she actually looked peaceful.  While Angie didn't know exactly what Peggy's job was, she knew it was stressful and involved long hours, not so thinly veiled sexism, and occasionally hiding from the government.  Anyone else put in Peggy's situation would have probably cracked by now, but not Peggy.  Peggy stayed strong and kept pushing, no matter what came her way.  Angie really admired it.

Still, nobody came home from a job like that completely unscathed.  While Peggy was absolutely fantastic with makeup (Angie had referred to Peggy's lipstick as the color of sin itself on more than one occasion), when she was in their bed and not wearing it, Angie could easily make out the worry lines on her face.  The lack of makeup made her look both older and younger at the same time.  Some of her features, like her cheekbones, were softer and less pronounced, yet there were still the little indents on her face that showed just how stressful Peggy's life could be.  Angie found her absolutely beautiful.

Peggy let out a soft sigh in her sleep and snuggled closer to Angie, her back pressing into the smaller woman's front.  When the two of them had first started sharing a bed, their positions were reversed, but both of them found it to be a miserable experience.  Peggy was far too clingy and held Angie too tightly from time to time and Angie's elbow usually ended up being pressed into Peggy's stomach.  At first, switching positions sounded like an even worse idea, since Peggy was taller and it seemed like it would be fairly uncomfortable, but one night, they decided to give it a try and it ended up being one of the best nights of sleep either one of them ever had.  Angie smiled and gently rubbed Peggy's arm.  The covers fell slightly, revealing the top half of their bodies.  In the dark, Angie could faintly make out two dots on Peggy's shoulder, right next to the strap of her nightgown.  She knew exactly what they were, having grown up in a neighborhood that wasn't exactly safe and having brothers and cousins who had fought in the war as well.  She knew they were scars from bullet holes and the very thought made her sick.  Someone had actually tried to kill Peggy.  People were still trying to kill Peggy, Angie assumed.  Angie was no idiot.  She knew Peggy's job was dangerous.  Every time Peggy walked out the door to their house or the automat, Angie knew that there was a chance she would never come back.  She squeezed her eyes shut.  She didn't want to think about that right now.

When Angie gently pressed her lips to the scars, Peggy groaned softly, starting to stir.  Peggy was never a particularly heavy sleeper.  While she loved to sleep in and get as much sleep as she could, it was relatively easy to wake her up.  She was never fully relaxed when she slept.  Peggy squinted her eyes opened and turned over in Angie's arms, burying her face into the other woman's neck.  "What's the matter?" she mumbled, sleepy.

Angie just smiled and rubbed her hand up and down Peggy's back.  "Nothing's wrong, English," she assured softly.  "You're just being cute.  Go back to sleep."

Instead of going back to sleep, Peggy just smiled and propped herself up on her elbow, resting her head on her hand.  "You're the cute one," she replied before letting out a yawn.

Angie couldn't help but smile at that.  "Nope, you're the cutest person ever to exist," she shot back, kissing Peggy's forehead.  "If being cute was a crime, you'd be arrested.  In fact, I'm arresting you for being too cute.  Hands where I can hold them."

Peggy laughed softly and took Angie's hand in her's, pressing a kiss to the knuckles.  Angie always noticed how rough and calloused Peggy's hands were from her years of fighting and using weapons.  Peggy frowned when she caught something in the dim moonlight and looked a little closer at Angie's hand.  "What's that?" she asked, looking at a faint line by Angie's knuckle.

Angie looked down at her hand and laughed.  "Oh, that was from that time when I was nine and punched this kid named Brian in the face.  He made fun of my voice, so I did what I had to do," she explained with a smile.  "Only problem was I didn't know how to throw a punch properly, so I ended up hurting my hand pretty badly."

Peggy smiled and the story, picturing a young Angie, punching a boy in the face.  It was a very cute image.  "Any others I should know about?" she asked softly, rubbing her thumb over Angie's knuckles.

Angie shrugged.  "I'll show you mine if you show me yours, but mine aren't really that interesting."

Peggy laughed softly at that.  "Oh, I'm sure yours are interesting."

"Nah," Angie replied, resting her head on her hand and mirroring Peggy.  "Mine are mostly from falling down or bumping into things."

Peggy kept laughing and reached over Angie to turn on the bedside lamp.  A soft glow fell over both women.  "Darling, I absolutely love you and adore you in every way, but you are the clumsiest person I have ever met."

Angie pretended to be offended at that and gave Peggy her best pout.  "Well, not everyone can be all perfect like you, English.  Perfect Peggy.  That's what I'm calling you from now on."

Peggy smiled and shook her head.  "I am far from perfect.  And I have all of the scars to prove it."

Angie smiled as well and moved a little closer.  "Can I see?"

Peggy pulled back the covers and lifted her left arm, her right arm pointing to a long, thin scar.  "This was from a knife fight three years ago.  I won, obviously."

Angie looked at the scar, her heart racing.  Peggy was slowly but surely getting more comfortable with talking about her job and the war, but she had never once talked about what she had actually been through.  Angie had never met anyone quite like Peggy before.  There had never been anyone in her life who was so strong, yet so modest, but still knew exactly what she was capable of.  Peggy Carter was one giant contradiction and Angie loved her with all her heart.  "Can I kiss it better?" she asked, only half-joking.

Peggy smiled and nodded her head.  When Angie pressed her lips to the scar, she felt a warmth spread through her entire body and found herself falling even more in love with Angie.  "What's this one from, she asked, looking at the scar on Angie's knee, made visible from the way her nightgown was riding up.

"Obviously, that was from when I scraped my knee, falling for you," Angie teased, giving Peggy a quick kiss.

Peggy just laughed and kissed back.  "Very funny, darling.  Now what's it actually from?"

"I was fifteen and I snuck out of the house to see a girl.  I had to climb out my window and I fell in a bush," Angie explained, smiling at the memory.  She looked down to Peggy's legs and noticed a faint scar on her calf.  "Don't tell me...Nazis?"

Peggy shook her head, smiling.  "No, that one wasn't from Nazis."

"Assassins?"

Peggy laughed.  "Not assassins."

Angie thought for a minute.  "Hmm...That guy I saw you and Mr. Fancy talk to a few weeks ago?  He looked kinda shady."

"No, not him either," Peggy said, still laughing softly.  "And he was very shady.  In fact, he was doing something very illegal and very classified."

Angie pouted at that.  She hated it when things were classified.  "Alright, then.  What did super secret agent Peggy get into that left her that?"

Peggy turned her head and blushed a bit.  "I may or may not have slipped and fell down the stairs."

Angie was silent for a moment before collapsing into a fit of laughter.  "You mean to tell me that you're a super spy and you fought in a war, but you got that from just being an idiot?"

Peggy frowned at that.  "I was not being an idiot!" she defended.

Angie ignored her statement and kept laughing.  "Oh, my god, English, you're so cute."

Peggy raised an eyebrow.  "Slipping and falling makes me cute?"

"Of course, it does," Angie replied with a smile.  "It means you're still a little bit normal and you'll always be the super adorable gal I fell in love with."

Peggy smiled at Angie's words and kissed her.  "You're still the adorable one," she said softly when she pulled back.

That night, Peggy and Angie stayed up a little later, talking about the scars they had each gotten over their lives.  Some were accompanied with fun little stories that they could laugh at.  Others were ones they weren't quite comfortable discussing just yet.  After a while, Angie fell asleep with her arms wrapped around Peggy, holding her close.  Peggy smiled and pressed a soft kiss to Angie's forehead before closing her eyes and shifting so her back was pressed against Angie's front.  Her scars used to be reminders of all of the times she could have died - of all of the times she would be just another name on just another tombstone.  Now, as she started to fall back asleep in Angie's arms, she realized that they were a part of her.  They were her stories.  Angie always loved listening to her stories.

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of lines were taken from a sentence prompt post from nikolailxntsov. Those lines were:
> 
> “You’re under arrest for being too cute. Put your hands where I can hold them.”  
> “You’re saying this was an accident?”  
> “Let me kiss it better.”  
> “You’re the clumsiest person I know.”


End file.
